The Death of a Robin
by Kahra
Summary: AU in which Wally didn't "die". After the invasion the team were shattered, their trust in Nightwing gone. Some begin to cut ties with him, others become hostile toward him. Nightwing became more and more secluded, feeling lost and alone he struggled to recover from the invasion. Then he disappears. And so few seem to care.
1. Chapter 1

Batman hunched over his desk, glaring at his computer as if his was all that was wrong with his world. He was tired from patrol in Gotham, and exhausted from the past few years. He hadn't slept well in a long time, and had long since learnt to go without sleep. He couldn't rest, not yet. One month until it would be five years without his son. His Richard. His little bird. Still searching, still no trace, no clue, nothing.

"Batman you aren't still searching for Dick are you? He's gone and he's not coming back. You need to let him go." Batgirls voice resounds around the room. tired. They all had been. Not since the invasion had any of the so called bat-family, gotten any real rest. Batman was constantly searching and the rest...plagued by guilt, even Damien felt his heart constrict slightly hen he thought of the first Robin.

Batman ignores her comment, looking through every file he had related to his search.

Batgirl sighs and walks to the entrance of the cave, before exiting she stops, "Even if he's alive he may not want to come back. If anyone could disappear like that it would be Dick, he probably just wanted a quiet life, you need to stop thinking the worst, if he's out there he's fine." The red head looks back to the dark knight, knowing her words had no affect she leaves, tired of the stubborn man.

Batman runs a hand over his face tiredly. He knew what they all said could be true. He knew Dick could have just left in search of a normal life, but he didn't. Call it a father's intuition if you will, but Richard Grayson didn't choose to disappear. He had every reason to, but he wouldn't, it wasn't in his character to leave like that. Besides the videos, the recordings of Nigtwing during he invasion, the ones that took him a whole year to find and another two months to hack into, the ones showing Rightwing's plan-his pain.

Regardless of whether Nightwing left or was taken, Batman had to see him. He had to see his son, those videos broke Bruce's heart, and made Batman angry.

Batman would never up on his son.

Suddenly the Batman's computer lit up, numbers filling he screen, the firewalls falling. Batman was being hacked, and what shocked him was that he couldn't stop it.

The numbers stop and the screen goes back to normal, but that isn't what has Batman's attention, no it was the speakers near him crackling, the hard breathing he could hear coming from them.

Then a voice Batman hadn't truly heard in over to five years comes out of his speaker, "Dad...please help. I, I'm scared dad, I don't want to die alone. Please I'm sorry for everything don't hate me. Dad..." The voice sounded so weak and broken, so lost and desperate it shook Batman to his core. Someone had hurt his son.

Batman acts quickly tracing the hacker to find the location. 'I don't want to die alone'- no he wouldn't die alone, he would die at all. After finding the location he runs to his airship, hoping to find his son in time.

Half an hour later Batman lands in a freezing mountainside, he exits his ship and follows his computer to the opening of a cave.

In the cave Batman is greeted by a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life. His sons crumpled body leaning against the ice wall of the cave. His skin paler than parchment, his breathing shallow, so shallow. Blood, bruises and scars marred his skin, and his bones sticking out at strange angles. The outline of ribs obvious as the skin stretches to cover the bones. His son looked like death.

Batman runs over and kneels next to his broken son. Cradling his body Batman take off his cape trying to warm his sons still, cold form.

"Richard, it's ok now. Your safe, it's ok." The hero whispers to his fallen protege, trying to convince himself of the words.

"Dad?" his eyes flutter but fail to open, as if it was took much to do even that. "You came... Please don't leave." The young man rasps, desperation clung to his words, Richard had never sounded so terrified in his life. Batman felt sick to his stomach, the very thought of abandoning anyone, let alone his son, when they were in such an awful state made his feel ill. The pitiful form whimpered, a weak hand stretched out, as if he was trying to hold Batman there, with him. As if ensuring he was not dreaming- or perhaps already dead.

"No, I'll never leave." The dark knight promises as he picks up the crumpled body, carrying him to the ship and setting course for home, the autopilot doing its job while Batman moved to begin the impossible task of healing the broken man.

"Hold on Dick, we'll be home soon."

Whilst in the air, taking a break from the gruelling task of clearing the blood the seemed to cry steadily from the cuts Batman calls his most trusted confident, "Master Bruce, I must ask why you have left with the aircraft, I don't believe any major disaster is occurring." An old British voice comes from the other side of the call filled with concern.

"Alfred, I found him. He's hurt, call Leslie and prepare for the worst, I don't know what happened but I know it's bad, broken bones, cuts, burns and so much more. God Alfred, I may have been to late. "

"You found him!" the normally calm and steady butler's voice cracks, with both joy and trepidation. To find him just to use him, surely fate cannot be so cruel. "We will prepare for you return, should I inform the others?" Alfred asks.

"No, he doesn't need that when he wakes. No just Leslie, I don't want anyone else knowing." came Batman's bitter reply. He did not want for the others, not even his other protege's to know...to see Dick in such a state. Especially after what they had done to him. Dick didn't need to deal with them when he woke up, he needed to heal, not listen to their childish hurts nor their petty grudges. They didn't even know what Richard had done for them.

* * *

Dr Leslie had never felt older in her life. Thirteen hour surgery on a boy she saw as a grandson, and still she couldn't tell if he was going to be alright or not.

When Alfred had called her she had been filled with hope. The little boy she knew would be coming home, yet reality slit her reality, her hope pouring out of her when she examines the boys wounds. He should be dead. Thats all she could say professionally. The body that Bruce had brought her had been broken beyond anything she had seen. It was not fixable. It shouldn't intact.

Her medical mind screamed at her, telling her that whatever had been done was permanent. But her heart cried louder, begging her to try. The poor child was broken.

Bruce looked near a wreck as he and Alfred worked with her. Each desperate to stitch back the wounds, make the strewn flesh and pat work of skin look human once more.

Alfred was better at hiding his feelings, but when they all finished. When Leslie had thrown in the towel saying that any more work done would stress the body into a shut down that he would not-could not recover from, the widened man began cry in earnest. The other occupants in the room could count on one hand the amount of times Alfred had cried in front of anyone. This only added to the seriousness of the situation. Richard Grayson was not in a good way.

Bruce looked more defeated than he ever had, the worry lines seemed to have deepened despite his new found knowledge of his sons location. None wanted to leave the boys bedside. Yet they all had things to do, and discretion required their continued appearance for the publics benefit.

Leslie was the first to move. She was due in Washington for a conference regarding children on the street. She moved quietly from the room, requesting that she remain updated on the young mans condition, and that the remaining two keep out of trouble.

Batman had to become Bruce Wayne again. He needed to run his enterprise, and play the part of distraught parent. The world could not yet know of Richard Grayson's return. Batman would have to create a plausible story for the sudden discovery, once Richard woke up of course.

Alfred had to return to the manor, his disappearance would have already been noted, and he did not need to be explaining to his other young charges as to why he and Batman had left in the middle of the night, after patrol had finished.

Yet they couldn't leave him without supervision. Someone needed to make sure there were no more complications. "I'll call Jason. He'll already be annoyed I left it this long."

* * *

Jason Todd was in a bad mood. The Drug circle he had planned on breaking up last night had turned out to be exponentially larger than expected, and had left him with bruises and three broken ribs that would leave him out of full time work for weeks. Not only that but someone was calling him in the middle of he day. He was meant to be sleeping dammit!

Sluggishly opening his eyes he squinted against the light of his phone in the dark room he was in.

 _Caller ID:_

 _Manic Depressive Asshole_

Swearing under his breath the disgruntled man contemplated ignoring the call. Wouldn't be the first time. But something made him stop. Bruce never called unless it was an emergency- in which case Todd would most likely roll over and go back to sleep. Or it was about Grayson.

Grayson.

An image of a smiling teen holding out his hand in greeting entered his mind. Followed by several others of the boy flying through the air, or smirking as he was up to mischief.

Rolling his eyes at his own sentimentality Todd press the answer on his phone. "Jason...I found him. He's not in a good way. Come to these coordinates." and with that the gruff voice of his former mentor left him. The phone call finished Jason didn't know whether to feel happy or annoyed.

Bruce was still a controlling asshole that loved to order people around. But Grayson was back...but not in a good way. What the hell was that supposed to mean!

Sighing the long man began to redress, after all going out as Red Hood (which he had been too tired to change out of) would surely bring attention to him, and he had a feeling that that was the last thing he, or Dick needed. Leaving his small apartment in a grey hoodie and old jeans, checking first for any paparazzi. Ever since he made an unsteady peace with Bruce in their efforts to find Dick the paparazzi had been hounding him. He was the prodigal son of the illustrious Bruce Wayne, that was helping search for his missing (and the official story was kidnapped) older brother. The reporters saw him as an enigma, who would leave a billionaires home, only to return to help find the older brother that stood to inherit it all? Yet another reason to be pissed at Bruce, the paparazzi were animals.

The young man walked into the street in relative anomaly, the paparazzi hadn't found his most recent hideout. Climbing onto his deathtrap of a motorbike, he checked the coordinates that Bruce had sent him. - It wasn't the Manor. Nor any of Batman's known locations, certainly wasn't on the archives of the watchtower.

Jason Todd smiled to himself, still the Batman that seemed to live to piss people off. If he remembered correctly, Batman had promised the founding members of the League that all of his locations were online now. Sometimes his paranoia seemed to pay off.

Driving three miles out of Gotham and into a secluded part of the countryside he arrived at a shanty looking house. Outside was Alfred's beat up old Buggie, the one he used for personal business, or if he needed to be under cover from Batman's little protégés. Knowledge that only Batman, Dr Leslie and Dick were aware of until Grayson went missing and Jason was told that tidbit of information. Same old Alfred.

Moving toward the house he was greeted by Alfred to was leaving. "Master Jason, I am glad to see you. Master Bruce and Master Richard are in the building, turn right and then enter the usual passcode into the fridge. And Master Jason...do try to keep your temper. Richard does not need that right now." Nodding is acceptance Jason moved past the older man, following the instruction and entering the elevator that appeared once the code was entered into the fridge. Stepping inside he inhaled, and held it before releasing. He was nervous... Scared shitless is he was honest. If Alfred sought to warn him, it must really be bad.

The stopped with a thump, and Jason left it. It opened to a large living room and kitchen. A few door attached, and the one left open, he assumed was where Richard was. The safe house was certainly not what he had expected. It was large and well prepared, and seemed to have been used recently. As if Bruce had been expecting to have to bring someone that would need an extended recovery or hideout period.

Shaking his head he cleared himself of these thoughts. He was here for Dick, not to Psycho analyse the madman that walked around in a bat suit at night...though he was no better.

He moved to the open room, on entering his breath left him. Grayson looked like he had been in a bus that had been on fire, then smashed into another bus while falling form the sky and being crushed by a plane. He looked awful.

Once Dick had told him what he had looked like when he was dead. Jason Todd was pretty sure that Dick looked worse. He should be dead.

Someone was going to pay.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, I am terribly sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors.**

 **The characters will be slightly different form the comic book versions, as will the timeline and events. I'm going to pick and choose some different events, and create some of my own. I hope you enjoy and will give me positive feedback.**


	2. Chapter 2

Jason was exhausted. Monitoring his older brother day in day out with nothing was mind numbingly boring, and his sudden reemergence had allowed the last five years of pent up grief, worry and anger re-emerge with a vengeance. The anger wasn't directed at Dick of course, no it was most assuredly directed toward everyone else, except strangely enough the Bruce. He, and Bruce were probably the only two people alive that could honestly say that they had always worried for the welfare of Richard Grayson, well Alfred could also say the same, but he was Alfred Pennyworth the best goddam Butler/Grandfather/Mentor in the history of forever, and so had an unfair advantage on mere mortals such as Jason and Bruce.

Often he found himself nodding off in the lounge char he had managed to drag into the room next to his brothers bed, and as if he wanted to encourage the rumours of his slight madness he found himself talking to his clearly unconscious brother, at time it was tirade swearing vengeance on the the assholes of the mini justice league, or the promise to murder whoever tortured him, yet there was also his vocalising of more mundane issues, such as how to get a crazy ex to stop calling, or how many cars one can own before being considered a privileged twat.

"…you see, now with the brooding bat and I actually speaking to each other- thanks for that by the way you idiot- I now have access to his money, and I already own three motorbikes and two cars, but a new Lamborghini came out last month, and it's just so damn gorgeous man! You've missed some of the best releases, and Mr 'dark and melancholy' would always give into your wishes, have you any idea how many cars I could have access to had you been around?" Jason's hands waved around with his words, animatedly talking to what looked like a corps. Looking towards his unchanging brother he sighed deeply. It would be a long road to recovery.

Moving to stand he winced, his ribs were healing at an annoyingly slow pace. Moving into the kitchen he began to make himself lunch, Alfred had kindly stocked the fridge with a large number of meals that Jason was more than willing to take advantage of seeing as he only got to eat Alfred's food when at the manor, and the manor housed the bat, and even more annoying, demon spawn and replacement that, in Jason's book were worse than the Joker, because at least you know where you stand with the Joker, those two abandoned Dick when he needed them, that docent even touch on how he feels about batgirl.

Shit-eaters the lot of them.

Looking over at the clock, 3:30pm. Bruce wouldn't be around for another hour or so, he had been skimming off the last hour and a half of work to come visit Dick without alerting his other sons of Dick's return. Alfred was always with him, and often came in the morning with more food, and sometimes books, after all, sitting with Richard was boring.

Sitting on the kitchen's countertop he had clear view into Richards open room, and he could turn on the television and see what was happening in the world.

The picture flickered onto the screen, " _… Justice League have yet to comment on blackouts occurring for some governments losing mass data bases. The government has also been tight lipped about the actual contents of the missing data, and has lead some commentators to believe that the data is hiding some of the governments dirty little secrets. Now in Sport…"_

Narrowing his eyes at this Jason made a mental note to ask Bruce about the missing data, and what they had really been about. Ignoring the sport he flicked the channel and smiled, a generic detective show was on, how wrong the detectives were always seemed amusing to Jason, so he settled down for some relaxing comedy in the 'very serious detective show'.

Just as the detective was about to explain the whole scheme, in a very Scooby-Doo like scene, movement in Dick's room was caught in the corner of his eye. Jason's breath hitched. It had only been eight days, and Dick was not meant to wake up for at least three weeks.

Ignoring the television his practically ran the three metres to his brothers room, and There! His head moved!

"Dick?"

Jason moved cautiously to his side ignoring the way his ribs punished him for his harried movements earlier.

Richard Grayson's head seemed to flinch away from the sound, his brow furrowing as if in pain. His body was tense, coiled, and ready for an attack. Jason looked at his brothers hands, they were clenched tightly, painfully, after all one hand was broken and the other had ligaments torn and muscles literally cut. His entire body was trembling.

Moving forward Jason gently half his brothers shoulders, trying to calm the shaking and tension that gripped them. It seemed this only made it worse. On instinct Dick's arms shot forward and threw his brother off of him, his body jerking to the left, and landed with a loud crash on the floor between the lounge and the bed.

"Shit, Dick!"

Getting up from the floor in surprise, his barley conscious brother had just pushed him down, despite his awful condition, whilst slightly embarrassed by this, Jason was somewhat relieved, it meant that Dick still had fight left in him. Cursing himself and that fight though he moved to the other side of the bed where he found his brother curled into himself, his eyes now open.

The startling blue burnt with fear that Jason Todd had seen only once before and that was when he had been dying. Now, more cautious he moved toward his brother. "Dick its me Jason, we're brothers remember? You're safe. Safe." He repeated the last word, hoping it would get through to his clearly distraught brother.

"J-Jay?" The recognition dawned in his eyes, and his shaking lessened. It was barely a whisper, his voice cracking from lack of use. It wasn't that that made the younger brother wince though, Jason winced at the clear disbelief in his voice. Recognition might have been in his eyes, but so was a guarded shadow, as if Richard Grayson no longer trusted what he saw.

"Yeah, its me. I missed you big brother." Jason reached forward, to help his brother up from the uncomfortable position, but the man curled further into himself. Jason felt his heart rip at this, Dick feared him? He had never felt so utterly low in his life, when he died, not even when he was first brought back to life. It also hardened his heart. Some one was going to pay for this. Richard Grayson was never meant to be so broken he cannot even see fried from foe. Richard Grayson was the greatest of them all, and to see him fallen so far just proved just how low the rest of the worlds supposed heroes had fallen, because if Richard Grayson was at rock bottom, everyone else had to be at least six feet under that.

"This real?" Grayson's eyes shrouded by uncertainty made Jason pause.

The hell kind of question was that.

Slowly Jason nodded, "This is real. See, real." He slowly moved his hand forward, palm up to show no harm. He held it there in front of Dick, not wanting to touch him and made him freak out even more.

Slowly, as if he had forgotten how to, Dick extended his arm, his eyes following his own hands path, as if believing it was not really there.

Dick's breath left him as he touched Jason's hand. It felt real. More real than anything he had felt in a long time.

Jason watched his brothers face, his brow furrowed once again, as if confused. it downed on Jason, perhaps it wasn't mistrust of him, perhaps Dick didn't trust himself. Someone had fucked with his mind,

Dick was the first to move again, he grasped his brothers hand. It still felt real. It felt strong and familiar. Dick began to pull himself into a sitting position, barely feeling any of his injuries as he moved. Jason helped as much as he could, slow movements, landing his strength to his brother. Jason couldn't help but smile as Dick sat up, with his help. Maybe things would be ok.

Dick, now looked beyond Jason, the room was white, too white. Sterile and clean like a medical facility. The only ting out of place was the lounge. His breath caught in his throat. It was different but the same. It was too much the same. His breathing increased, a panic attack suddenly overcoming the poor man. It smelt like disinfectant.

"Dick, whats wrong! Shit Dick breath. Breath dammit." Jason was beginning to panic. Dick always dealt with his break downs, not the other way around.

"Jay-J-Jay, get me out of here." Dick closed his eyes, trying to regain control of his breathing.

"Wha-What, not your IV and shit are in this room." Jason threw caution in the wind and pulled his brother towards him. Holding him to his chest, cradling him like a child.

"Pl-Please. I, I can't. Its like before. Please Jay." Dick leant into the embrace, his finger clutching at Jason's clothed like a lifeline.

Swearing under his breath, Jason lifted his brother into his arms, and grabbed the IV, carrying the underweight man and dragging the IV out of the room into the kitchen and set his brother down on the other lounge.

"The things I do for you." Shaking his head as Dick's breathing seems to even out, clearly exhausted, the injured man begins to fall asleep.

"Thanks Jay."

Jason cant help but smile at that. Though he also wants to cry. His brother was fucked up, possibly more than him, and this time theres no level headed optimist to fix things.

Jason sat there cross-legged watching his brother drift off to sleep, the old detective show playing in the background.

"You be here when I wake up?" It seemed Dick had managed to hold onto consciousness for one final question.

This time a tear really did fall from Jason Todd's eye. "Always."

...

...

It was this scene that Bruce Wayne walked into. A half asleep Jason Todd, and an out-cold Richard Grayson, one sitting on the ground, the other attached to a IV drip and curled up on the couch.

"Jason." The man woke with a start.

""Why is Richard on the lounge and not in his bed with all the medical supplies?" Bruce couldn't have sounded an less impressed even if he tried.

"He woke up. Freaked out. Medical facilities seem to make him have a panic attack." Jason replied, they both know what that meant. Dick had been in a medical facility and he had most likely been tortured in it.

Alfred walked in, and simply raised a single eyebrows at the scene.

"Did he say much." Bruce asked, moving forward, kneeling next to Jason to stroke his eldest sons hair.

"No, took him a while to figure out that he was safe, and seemed pretty exhausted after that."

It seemed the talking was rousing Dick from his sleep, his eyes fluttered to an open. All three other occupants of the room froze. The blue eyes scanned the room, recognition of the other people came slowly, Jason;brother, safe. Bruce; Dad, protective, safe. Alfred; Grandfather, safe. No threats detected.

"Dick." Bruce reached forward, Jason hastily whispered for slow movements, making the older mans arm slow down.

"Dad?" It came out more like a question, and like before, he didn't seem trust what he saw. The hand met his face in a gentle caress, it felt real. It felt so real.

As if a damn broke, and Richard reached forward and grabbed onto his father like his life depended on it. Tears ran down his face and he felt his father, his very real father in his arms. Bruce was here. That meant he was finally free. Finally safe.

Bruce himself held onto his son, finding confront in the feeling of his sons alive body in his arms. Safe.

Jason found himself being pulled into the embrace, both feeling incredibly uncomfortable, and at peace at the same time. Alfred himself felt his eyes tear with joy, as he moved to pat the mess of hair that was his missing grandson.

For the first time in five years each person in the room felt the missing piece of their core seemingly fit back into place.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been three days since Richard Grayson woke, and Bruce Wayne was preparing for one of the most difficult discussions he would probably ever encounter within this lifetime. Rubbing his face tiredly, he squared his shoulders, got out of the car that Alfred had opened for him and moved towards the building in front of him. Moving through the house with purpose, towards the lounge room where half his family were waiting.

Tim Drake, and Damien Wayne sat nervously on different sides of the room. Bruce Wayne had never sounded more tired than he had that morning when he told them there was to be a family meeting after he returned from work. The two brothers glanced at each other, whilst they cared about each other there wasn't a history of affection between them, most outward acts of affection within the Wayne household had left with the oldest son. Tim nervously tapped his foot, up and down, a habit that grated on his younger brothers nerves. This was to of character for Bruce, while he often kept secrets it was rare for him to keep them from his family, they were always in the loop, yet this time they had no idea for what to expect. It had to do with Bruce's uncharacteristically distracted attitude the past ten days. He acted like the first few months Richard Grayson had been missing in, yet that time they knew the cause, and his single minded search had made sense, this distraction, whatever it was, both boys had a feeling it would impact on the Wayne household significantly.

Their father walked in, emotionless face, the one he gave to the other Leaguers, the one that always gave them hints as to what he was thinking, yet this time, neither could decipher the tiny give-ways that made the great Batman a relatively open book. The only time he looked like this was when Batman didn't want them involved.

"I'm sure you have both noticed my and Alfred's change in routine these last few days. This is because eight days ago the Bat-cave was hacked, and I received a distress call from Richard. I retrieved him that morning and he has been recovering from severe injury in an offline safe house-"

"-Grayson's alive!"

"-Dick's back?"

The two brothers interrupted their father at the same time, each seized with elation at the thought of the oldest brothers return. Each had missed Richard Grayson and Nightwing, and each had wrongs they intended to right when they next saw the young man.

Bruce scowled at the boys at being interrupted. "Yes Richard is back, and he is recovering. Jason will be bringing him to the Manor in a few hours, and tomorrow I have organised a press-conference to announce his return. You two, you will both stay out Richard's room unless accompanied by myself, Alfred or Jason-"

"- What do you mean stay out of his room unless accompanied not to mention Jason being allowed to see him? Supervised visits Bruce, what you think we're going to hurt him?" Tim's voice shook with hurt. The thought of hurting Dick, especially after seeing the videos. It was unimaginable.

"It wouldn't be the first time." Bruce replied, ignoring the pain in each of his son's eyes. Both had hurt their brother, in some ways they could not even conceive until after the fact. They had broken his trust. They had broken their father's trust. They had broken the rules of the so called 'Bat-Family'. They had betrayed their brother.

"Richard does not need the added stress of you two hovering around him. It would also be a possible trigger that could lead to injury for both you, and him. Something I will not tolerate." Bruce's commanding tine left no room for argument. Their bother was back, but they wouldn't get to see him until he was healed. Healed from what, they did not know. How long it would take, they did not know. All they knew was despite the warning from their father, they had every intention of seeing the eldest son of Bruce Wayne, after all, they each had mistakes to fix.

...

…

Jason Todd grimaced as he pulled up to Wayne manor. Waiting outside for him was Alfred and Bruce, though he could see the window curtains move in one of the upper floors, indicating that the replacement and demon spawn were there and watching. Stopping the van that he had transported his bother in in the agonisingly slow and careful drive back into Gotham, he stepped out of the car and moved to help Alfred pull Dick's bed out of the van, along with his IV.

"How'd they take it." The young man asked the vigilant father, that watched every movement around the injured man in the bed.

"Not well. They will be wanting to visit him without supervision." Bruce frowned at this.

"Like hell they will. I plan on staying in the room next to his. With you undoubtedly on the other side they'd have to get past one of us and while I admit their good. I'm better. They''l never hurt **my** brother again.

The slight jarring of the portable bed as it went up some stairs woke the drugged up form in the bed. "Bruce?" The slurred word came out, just as they reached his room. "The papers go through?"

Bruce Wayne couldn't help but smile at that question. "Yes Dick, they went through."

Jason Todd just scoffed, rolling his eyes at the exchange. So it was official, his brother was son the a Manic Depressive Asshole that spent his nights dressed in a bat costume, yet the soft smile that reached his brothers lips at Bruce's answer softened his heart. Things were going be ok.

…

...

The Mountain was busy. Mount Justice had been rebuilt after the invasion. It was necessary, the Watchtower had gone down in a blaze of glory, effectively acting as a bomb to stop other invading forces. Now both Young Justice and the Justice League used, worked from and in some cases live in the Mountain. It no longer was just a mountain, the floors went deep into the earth, Batman had even set up a subway of sorts to allow easy access for if (when) the teleports went offline.

Young Justice and the Justice League had merged well together, getting over old pains and forming better communication than before. It had been necessary. Threats both of this world and from other worlds had seemed to batter the earth's heroes, exhausting them. It had become necessary for old enemies, criminals even, to become associates or even members of the League. The most well known of this change in allegiance came from Gotham's Catwoman. Selina Kyle had decided four and a half years ago that the Justice League needed help, and Batman needed a real ally, one that understood how he saw the world. One that understood exactly what it meant to live in Gotham. It seemed that Batman's remaining proteges had forgotten the rules of Gotham, and so Miss Kyle had sought to give Batman some morale support. She had, in effect, become a member of the Bat-family. Entrenching herself deeply into the inner workings of the Justice League, and while some still held suspicion, she was a much needed help in the wars that were to come. Damien and Tim, everyone knew, had taken to her addition relatively well, Damien viewing her with the same disdain he held everyone, and Tim simply accepting it a moving on. Jason Todd, and his return, while had shocked the world, Justice League included, had been the biggest shock, seeming to accept, and even agree with Catwoman. Barbara Gordon had taken Selina Kyle's addition the worst, refusing to have anything to do with the fellow resident of Gotham. The world had certainly changed within the last few years since the invasion.

There most of the Justice League, and Young Justice Teams spent their time. the two teams had been watching the news with unusually rapt attention. After the invasion the remaining secret identities (the bat-family) came out into the open. It hadn't been hard to figure out, after Richard Grayson goes missing and Bruce Wayne's refusal to give up on his missing son, and the reappearance of Jason Todd along with the more common communication with Red Hood, it hadn't been all that hard to figure out their identities. Today the League were waiting for the special report to come out of Gotham. Bruce Wayne had called for a press conference, and the only time he did that now days, was when it was about his missing son.

"So even Batman's giving up hope on Nightwing? Kind of depressing, but also expected. After all five years and still no trace? Still, depressing" Garfield muttered under his breath, some of the members of theLeague nodded their agreeance, they all had seen first hand how desperate Batman had been, and to see him finally give up left a bitter taste in their mouths, even if they had expected this outcome after the first year.

Please! Nightwing probably disappeared on purpose, the shit he pulled during the invasion, Ha- Probably can't bare to face us." Wally West retorted, still feeling the stinging pain and turmoil he had experienced thanks to Nightwing's plans during the invasion.

Catwoman hissed at this, "Shut up you stupid boy. Besides we don't even know what the conference is about." In her heart she hoped that Bruce hadn't given up on Richard Grayson, the original Robin, and a young man she had seen grow and thrive.

Some members didn't know how to feel. Sure, the invasion plan had broken a lot of trust in Nightwing, and many of them had harboured beliefs of his retirement, others, the ones that had known him best, believed that the only way for him to have disappeared as he had was if he was forcibly taken, or dead.

"… _Bruce Wayne is taking to the stage. Poor man looks exhausted."_ The camera panned form the reporter to zoom into Bruce Wayne's haggard looking face. " _As you all know, the young ward that I took in close to fifteen years ago, Richard Grayson, the young man I see as my eldest son, went missing close to five years ago. I know that law enforcement have worked tirelessly in their attempts to find him, and the private detectives that I hired found no trace of my son. Many have speculated that he, like Jason Todd, ran away. I would like to set to rest any speculation about Richard's disappearance."_ the entire audience seemed to hold their breathes, and Bruce Wayne's eyes took on an intensity that even the Batman would struggle to attain. " _My son was taken. . Though he was returned to me, it turns out that the vigilante Batman had also taken interest in Richard's case and saw fit to find and return my son to me. As of right now I am unaware of the full circumstances surrounding his kidnapping, nor the full extent of the abuse at the hands of his captors, Richard has been healing. I would like to thank anyone who searched for my son, and those that did to lose hope in finding my son. I would also like to announce my official adoption of Richard. We have talked about many things since his return, and the most prominent being the loss we each felt in the years apart. We agreed that after these years, wardship was simply not enough, and sought to have the law recognise our bonds as family. Of course he would like to be here himself, but his injuries prevent movement out of our home. Once again my family and I thank all those who helped search for Richard."_

The announcement met absolute silence in Mount Justice. A shocked audience sat staring as the camera returned to the reporter who was gushing about the unexpected news of Richard Grayson's return, his confirmed kidnapping, and his apparent adoption. In the background Bruce Wayne could be seen shaking hands with Commissioner Gordon, seeming to be thanking him for his efforts in the search for his son.

Selina Kyle was the first to move, followed quickly by a shellshocked Barbara Gordon, moving towards the Zeta tubes with the intention of seeing the once missing son of Gotham. Both were surprised to find their access to the Bat-cave suspended. "What the hell!" The red haired woman looked ready to spit fire, and flicked on her communicator with the intention of demanding access to Bat-cave. It took five minutes for someone to answer. It was none other than Alfred Pennyworth who looked less than impressed.

"Something I can do for you Miss Gordon?" his slightly raised eyebrow seemed to indicate that he already knew what this call was about.

"Alfred I want to come and see Dick. Give me back access to the Bat-cave dammit."

The old butler sighed, "I'm afraid that is impossible Miss Gordon, Master Bruce has decided to run certain analysis today and has restricted all access to the Bat-cave, all other Zeta locations including the ones in Gotham should work fine. As for visiting Master Richard, I regret to inform you that he is on bedrest, and is not up to any visitors right now. Besides I cant think of any reasons why he might want to see you after you made your opinion of him very clear last you saw him." He managed to sound incredibly bored and condescending at the same time.

The pain on Barbara Gordon's masked face was clear, yet deep down Alfred felt a small rush of victory in seeing it. He could to forgive her actions from five years ago, while his other young charges had hurt Richard Grayson, Barbara Gordon along wiht other members of the Young Justice team had destroyed him. Selina Kyle snagged Batgirls arm, bringing her face into view of the communicator. "What about me." the impatient woman asked, wanting to visit the boy she had helped mentor (if in a slightly odd way by watching as he chased her after stealing something).

"Miss Kyle, as I said, Master Richard is not ready for visitors just yet, but I'll be sure to contact you when he is."

Slightly pacified by this answer she nodded and moved to return to Gotham anyway. She had no interest being around a bunch of goody goodies today.


	4. Chapter 4

**_-Three years before Richard Grayson's Return-_**

 _Red Hood was frustrated out of his mind. The lead he thought he had on Dick's disappearance turned out to be a dead end. Dead end. Dead end. Dead end. Thats all they turned out to be anymore. Sitting on the top of a skyscraper in the middle of China, exhausted after infiltrating one of the Lights lesser known workshops, he had been so sure that this one had been the one. The one where he would find his older brother and bring him home._

 _Home, he thought, the very word had become a foreign memory. The only home he had was in Gotham, with his family. Bruce was an asshole, but he was family. Tim, well he sucked. Miserable brat that couldn't keep his opinions to himself. Damien, was the actual reincarnation of Narcissus, 'I can do it better…I would have done it quicker…I'm the blood son of Batman, I was born for this'. Though the idiots had begun to grow on him, just as Dick had said they would. Dick was his real family though. He was the reason he still spent time with them. Bruce was his way to find Dick again. His family._

 _Home was also where they were beginning to report that Richard Grayson was dead. That Richard Grayson was never coming back. That Richard Grayson did not want to be found. As if any of them knew him at all. In the years since Dick had gone missing, Jason was beginning to wonder whether anyone really knew Richard Grayson at all. Whether anyone knew just how much he had given for them. How much he had lost. Losing Dick had forced him to find exactly what he did, and what he gave up. Self sacrificial idiot, and never told. Never said a word as to how much he had suffered. "And you did nothing to help did you?" Jason asked himself. Nothing. Perhaps that was why Dick was missing. Because no one cared to check until it was too late._

 _As records show, that analysis was right. Richard Grayson had been missing for twenty-one days before anyone called it. Jason felt like an asshole. Twenty-one days. He knew Dick made sure to reach out every fortnight, and sure Jason sometimes ignored the call, he got moody and didn't want to talk. Yet the option had always been there. Now Jason was in a permanent moody state._

 _Life was unfair._

 _Sitting on the edge, his legs dangling off, like he used to when he had begun as Robin, when the darkness was a cool grey, rather than an obsolete black. Perhaps kids saw the light of the world. Perhaps Dick could bring light into his world. Or perhaps the world just sucked more as time went on, and when he would be forty he'd think that this stage of early adulthood had been a lighter shade of grey than he saw now. It was all about perspective he supposed._

 _There was movement in the caught in the coroner of his eye. Quick and sharp. Well trained he noted. Groaning as he got up he moved to get a better look._

 _It was the Nomad. A new vigilante. Perhaps a hero, perhaps a villain, perhaps somewhere in between, like Catwoman was. No one was entirely sure. He certainly helped the heroes. Diffused a bomb expertly, quick as Batman would have. It had been about to blow up half a city, that Nomad seemed to be interested in for three months after they initial bomb scare, some speculated that he only saved the city so he could carry on with more nefarious plans, yet he remained a mystery. Nomad only took a side in life or death situations, though he always took the hero side. Other than that he seemed preoccupied with his own agenda. Whatever that agenda was, not even Batman could uncover._

 _The Nomad was an unknown. His face was completely covered a simple white mask, hooded and dressed in robes that appeared old, they seemed eastern in styling, yet the other things he wore came from around the globe, as did his fighting style. He was dangerous, though he never killed. More of a hero then, though had no interest in any of the other heroes. While his clothes added to the legitimacy of the name, Nomad came from his nomadic nature. He never seemed to settle, in the yer he had appeared. He moved from city to city, never a pattern emerged, never a plausible reason for it. He'd appear, occasionally help local law enforcement, or annoy some criminal, or occasionally the local hero, but he would always disappear. Why? No one knew._

 _The Nomad moved, he was being chased. Like a scared animal he fled, Jason was sure that if he could see beneath the mask the eyes of the Nomad would be wide and terrified. What he fled from, Jason could not see, it was as if an invisible terror plagued the Nomad, as he flew though the high-rises of Shanghai, it was strange to see. Jason almost moved to help, almost._

 _He wasn't a hero. Though the news had begun to call him an 'anti-hero', Jason snorted at the thought. Jason had been intrigued by the Nomad, but never enough to force an encounter. He was busy, running from…something. He didn't have anything to do with Dick's disappearance. He appeared a year too late for that. He didn't have anything to do with much. Shrugging to himself, Jason began to move off. If he was lucky he could hitch a ride back to Gotham with Selina, who was in Bangkok for business, turns out, she was a mean business woman, especially if jewellery was involved her upstarting business had started to gain a reputation._

 _Next time. Jason thought to himself. Next time, he would find Dick._

…

Roy Harper, felt old. He was twenty-eight years old, was father to three children, married to an ex-assassin, and found out four hours ago, that one of his best friends was back from the dead.

Soft padding made him look up from the computer screen he was looking at, reading everything he could on the news about Richard Grayson, though it all just repeated what he Bruce had said in the press-conference. No other news.

A small red haired girl plodded into view out from the dark hallway. "Daddy, I can't sleep." It was a truly pathetic sight, he sighed, a smile tugged at his lips, and closed the laptop.

"Lian, sweetheart, you have school tomorrow and you need sleep." He moved to pick up the small child who happily clung to his torso.

"But Alice and Luke don't have to go to school!" the child whined throwing her head back in annoyance and pointing her tiny fingers at her father as if it was is fault that her twin brother and sister were too young to attend school.

"Yes but their not old enough, you know that."

The child's reply came out in a short huff and hiding her face in her father's shoulder. He began humming and meandering around the kitchen, lulling the child to sleep.

The five year old had drifted off enough for Roy to be thinking about putting her back in her room when a sloppy knocking came at his door waking the girl up. Frowning to himself he glanced over at the clock it read 1:24 AM. Far to late for visitors.

Placing his fingers to his lips he put Lian down and motioned for her to go hide in her room. Roy reached for his bow that was hidden above the fridge.

The knocking became more insistent, and he moved to open the door before it woke the others. Perhaps it was just Oliver, and he was finishing up patrol? Normally he called, but maybe he was busy, hero work certainly got busy sometimes.

He opened the door to reveal a very drunk Wally West. This could not be good.

Stepping aside he let the man stumble inside, Wally had never been drunk, a side effect of the speedy metabolism. He would have had to have drank ethanol to be as intoxicated as he seemed. It also appeared that Wally was a depressed drunk. Of course whatever led him to drink ethanol could have been the reason he looked like his pet had died and the world was ending.

"Wally you alright buddy?" He caught the red head before he could trip on air.

The reply was a sniff followed by a choked sob as Wally practically dragged Roy to sit on the floor, leading on the now closed door. "We - I - I didn't look. I should have looked. He - I, he was retired you know? I thought he retired. I hated him for just leaving all these years, not even apologising for the Invasion, not even saying goodbye. I convinced myself he had retired. I - I should have known. They say he was tortured. And you must hate me, cause I know thats why you stopped talking to me. You never believed he retired. I - I think I hate myself. He - I, Roy I thought he left me, but I was the one that left him. I left our little brother alone." The mad ramblings petered off into more sobbing. Roy just held the distraught speedster, not sure what to say to the man.

Wally had believed so strongly, that Richard Grayson, that Nightwing had disappeared on purpose. That he had been ashamed of his actions in the Invasion and had left in disgrace. That he had seen the error of his ways and chosen to retire before he could do more harm. Roy had hated him for that. Roy had hated anyone who thought that of Dick. Yet he couldn't say much, he was retired himself and had to raise his children. Wally and those that agreed with him had grown vocal in more recent years, and many simply decided it was easier to believe that Nightwing had retired, than think of the alternative. The alternative made everyone cringe, for no matter what Rightwing had done, or hadn't done, he did not deserve whatever the faceless kidnappers had done to him. He didn't deserve to be taken away. He couldn't say much his sister-in-law was one of those believers in Nightwing's retirement, while she didn't believe he had done it out of shame, she believe he had wanted the quiet life, so many had after the invasion.

The speedster soon fell asleep on Roy's shoulder. Roy sat there for a few minuted in shock. It was like he was watching the scene from somewhere else, numb. Wally's words struck home, "…They say he was tortured." He had been so happy to know that Dick was back, that he was alive. Yet the reality of what that meant had crashed into him. He had been kidnapped for five years, and likely tortured. His little brother had been tortured and all he did was make brownies and go to meetings for Ollie's business. He had tried to search for a bit, but the realities of fatherhood and having a job had interfered.

They had left their little brother in hell.

…

…

The hours following his announcement of Dick's return had been hectic. The media had followed him home and were currently parked outside the Manors grounds waiting, watching for the inhabitants to show themselves. They all wanted to see Richard, hoping to get a look at his injuries, and speculate on how he got them.

Bruce's mind turned to the injuries. They were awful. They had been done with the intention of causing pain. They had been inflicted precisely and to an intensity that should have killed him. It made Bruce's blood boil. If the people who had hurt him had still been alive, Bruce knew that perhaps this time, he would have broken his vow not to kill.

But they were dead. Dick had told them they were gone. They couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

It didn't save his son from the nightmares, or the scars.

Walking up the stairs he moved into Dick's bedroom, inside sat Alfred, who was calmly reading what appeared to be an old detective novel.

"Is he alright?" They both look at the sleeping form of the young man they had raised, completely still in the bed. It was eerily like the dead.

"He seems to be well, but one can never be sure what goes on within another persons head. I'm simply here to prove to myself that this is real." The weary butler confessed.

Nodding at the admission, Bruce too had felt the same way. It was almost like a lucid dream, there were moments he felt like he was floating through it, like the press conference, it felt like a parody of itself. Other moments felt all too real. It was a push and pull, a mess of emotions that whirled around like a storm, Bruce hoped that soon the storm would pass.

"Jason asleep?"

Alfred smiled at this question, "I believe he decided to give the other young masters a lesson in hand to hand combat sir. Only a few scratches and bruises came out of it, but they all retired their rooms after that." he looked quietly pleased with this, though Bruce never knew him to encourage infighting amongst the family. Reading the confection on Bruce's face, like he always did, he continued, "I believe it had been a good exercise to release pent up emotion, as surly they enjoy grudges."

Bruce snorted out a laugh at the understatement. The Bat-family, especially his sons, could hold a grudge like no other.

They remained like that for a while. A quiet vigil, a moment of calm that had been missing for years. A family complete. The companionable silence was welcome, it was rare that they might have an evening to themselves, Batman was often busy, and Alfred often had to ensure his young charges were not ruining their own reputations (with Damien that had become an increasingly difficult task due to his unsociable personality). Batman wouldn't patrol tonight, even he deserves the night off every once in a while, Bruce Wayne needed a rest. He was tired.

"How do you think they will react to seeing him properly?" Bruce asks Alfred, hoping his own expectations would be wrong.

"Timothy will undoubtedly want to know the excoriating details, where as Damien will demand for the perpetrators heads, quite like Jason in that way. Had it happened to any of the others, there would have been a level head to pull them back inline, yet the level head is the victim. I'd be most concerned about Richard's reaction. The mental trauma's he experienced. It is unclear how he will react." Bruce sighs, Alfred's analysis of the circumstances had been the same as his own. Tomorrow would most likely be a difficult day for his sons. It was also going to be annoying, with the Justice League and Young Justice teams wanting information on Dick.

Life was complicated.

…

 **Thanks for reading. Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

Damian Wayne rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers, a very unlikely thing for him to be doing, 'only commoners do such things'. Standing outside of Richard Grayson's room, the teen had never felt more nervous in his life, an incredibly unusual and stomach churning feeling that the young Wayne most certainly did not like. Alfred stood next to him, he had offered to supervise his and Timothy's first visits to the eldest brother's bedside.

He and Tim had argued and then sparred to win first visit, Bruce had informed them that individual visits were the most logical course of action, non-negotiable. Damien had won that agreement with an underhanded kick Tim's half healed shoulder, it had been a dirty trick, but it had won him the match. Now he was going to see Grayson, his brother, his mentor for several brief but early and admittedly crucial, months in his training as protégé. Damien still used some of the tips and tricks Grayson had showed him, he wold never have admitted it five years ago, but Grayson had been a good mentor, in some ways even better than Bruce, as Grayson had been far more patient in dealing with his outbursts. Damien shook his head, clearing himself of such sentimental thoughts, it would not do to become emotional when greeting his older brother, he had to remain calm. Now if only he could find the courage to open the door.

Alfred ended up being the one to enter the room first. Damien followed passively. If his mother saw him in these moments she would have been furious, so weak and cowed by a man on bedrest. She would tell him to kill him, he was now the most dangerous competition for the Wayne legacy and the mantel of Batman. Damien quashed these thoughts, instincts long since denied, Grayson had been the one to teach him that.

The room was light, the window half open, letting in a cool breeze. It was not a well lived in room, Richard's normal room was down the hall, half empty from when he moved to Bludhaven. Bruce had moved him to a room next to his, and Jason had moved into the adjacent side, a clear message to the younger brothers, that he and Bruce were protecting Dick, even from them. The sunlight casting shadows in the wall from the curtains that twisted in the wind. In the centre of the room sat Grayson in bed, looking out the window with a calm expression. To an unobservant person, Richard Grayson would have appeared at peace, looking out the window, but as Damien took in his oldest brother he noticed the tense muscles, and his left-hand twitching as if seeking to close into a fist.

Taking his brother Damien also saw the bandages covering most of his body, in fact only his face lay uncovered, and it held more scars than Damien remembered. The dark bags bruising under his eyes, and the gaunt physique not even hidden under the layered bandages. Gritting his teeth, a fire was lit in his belly, the heat of fury he intended to release upon Richard Grayson's attackers. The attackers, Bruce had been tight lipped about, refusing to tell himself or Tim anything about them aggravated him further.

"Grayson, I –" Damien trailed off, unsure of how to begin. He had rehearsed what he would say to his brother upon his return a thousand times, and yet it didn't feel like enough, standing in front of his brother, his heart was in his mouth, the blood pounded in his ears. It was not a normal feeling for the normally confident Damien Wayne.

Part of him hoped that Richard would say something, he was always better at feelings and words of caring. He wanted Richard to turn and say some stupid quip about being late and how he was impressed with how much taller Damien had grown and say everything was behind them. However, Richard simply turned his head, his eyes stared intently at Damien, it was unnerving, his eyes were less warm than Damien remembered, less welcoming. Damien swallowed, the lump in his throat remaining. He had to be honest, he had to tell Dick how he felt.

"Dick, what happened, the things I said and did. I was wrong and I am sorry. I'm glad you came back and I look forward to working with you."

There, Damien felt a weight lift off of him, he had apologised.

Grayson sat quietly for a few moments, almost like a computer processing what Damien had said, his eyes still burning into him, as if seeking the unease Damien felt.

"I accept your apology. I won't be working with you any longer." The reply was raspy and almost disinterested. The tone reminded Damien of how he used to address his brothers when he first arrived, the reply punching into his chest with mighty force.

"What do you mean won't be working with me? Look I get your angry but your back now and you and Bruce will be working together to bring down the scum that did this to you and I'm going to help!" Damien replied hotly, hating the way he sounded so needy and demanding.

Richard sighed as if he was tired of Damien already. "I'm retired, Nightwing is officially dead and I had no interest in taking up a new mask. As for my… captors, I have already dealt with them." The reply was curt, and to the point. Richard seemed to have little care for the conversation with his brother.

"I – well – we can still work together on other things."

"Damien, you never took interest in spending time with me before, I see no reason to push for it now." Richard's voice began to die, though he seemed to have little more to add.

"But we're brothers" Damien felt hot pricking behind his eyes, though he absolutely refused to cry. It was almost ironic, the last time those words had been uttered between them it had been Richard claiming kinship, and Damien had replied that Caine and Able had also been brothers, Damien cringed at his younger self.

Richards eyes watched him, judging him, as if also recollecting his retort.

"Brothers without trust. We're strangers Damien, and my head is so messed up I need to get to know myself before I can get to know you. It will take time, likely more than your willing to give." Richard's voice slightly rise and emotional suddenly cut out, the conversation was over thanks to his failing body. Alfred motioned for Damien to leave, he had been very clear that any sign of unease on Richards side and Damien would have to leave immediately. That had not gone to plan.

Walking out of the room, frustrated Damien turned to Alfred. "Is he serious? He dealt with his captors? Strangers! That's what he called me! He's totally fine with you and bloody Jason we're not stranger!"

"Master Damien, Richard has been through an extremely traumatising experience, he is a stranger to himself. If he dealt with his captors, you'll have to take his word on that and his decision to retire is likely wise considering the physical and mental wounds he has gained. If you wish to grow a relationship with Richard, one that you do not have thanks to your own sabotage you will have to be patient. I suggest you be thankful Richard seems to be willing to start from a new beginning rather than the damaged memory of you telling him that you hoped he died" Alfred spoke with cutting clarity that slapped Damien into reality, if Richard wanted to start again they would, it was almost more than Damien deserved.

 **Oh my goodness I am so sorry for such a long wait, my life kind of went up shit creek for a while and then I forgot my password and it was all a nightmare. But with the new season coming out I was reminded of this story and resolved to finish it! If your still here and reading I apologize and thank you. Obviously season 3 is not canon but I amy involve some of the characters, but my original plot line is still in the works. I hope to update that weekly, but life is busy but I have gotten into it again and have most of the next chapter written with Tim and Dick's meeting, they were originally meant to be one chapter but I felt to bad about updating that I just ended it here.**

 **Once again I'm really sorry! But I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

Tim had been warned, perhaps he should have listened.

Damien had left Dicks room, looking more shaken than after their last run in with Scarecrow. The warning had been clear, that Richard Grayson was not the same person he once was.

Tim felt sick, the churning in his chest attested to it. Dick hadn't been very responsive, hadn't been invested in anything he had to say. He didn't care, and that hurt terribly.

Tim had apologized, he had betrayed his brothers trust, he had betrayed the family code, and he had said the most hurtful things that had come to mind. It took Dick's disappearance to bring Tim plummeting back to Earth, to understand the full extent of the damage he'd done. For Damien, it had been easier, he had always said cruel insensitive things to those around him, it was expected and therefore easier to forgive. Tim and Dick had been close, perhaps the closest out of the Bat clan, they both understood the pressure of the job and growing up in such tensions. They had been like minded, and better equipped to find the logical conclusion rather than acting in emotion like Jason and Damien tended to do.

Tim and Dick had also been on the Young Justice team together. Jason died a few months into his Young Justice career, and before that he was never the most sociable. Tim had trusted Dick, looked up to him, and related to him most of all, which was why the secrecy from the invasion had hurt him most of all. Looking back, it made sense. All the secrets were planned, and precise. It would have been what Batman would have done, and whilst Tim didn't always like it, often Batman was correct. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few, particularly if the only sacrifice was trust versus a sacrifice of life.

Tim had entered the room housing his brother, seeing the sickly shell of a person on the bed, seeing just how close Dick had come to death, shook Tim to his core. The worst part was his demeanour. Tim had expected anger, or resentment, it was what he had deserved for breaking the code. However, Dick accepted his apology and moved on, barely acknowledging the hurt he had received from Tim's actions. Richard had always been the forgiving type, but he had always been sure to explain the hurt and discuss the repercussions, he had always said it lead to a stronger and more understanding relationship. Now it was as if Dick didn't want a relationship, as if Dick was done caring, and Tim couldn't think of a worse thing.

Pulling on a white dress shirt Tim scowled, he had better things to be doing than going to university. He should be home, figuring out the mystery of his older brother, or at least doing some kind of detective work as Red Robin. Cursing to himself, Tim realised that he would be accosted by reporters and the general public, but worst of all, he suspected Barbara Gordon was going to visit her old university, and happen upon him.

"Damien If you want a lift to school you better come now." Tim knocked in his brother's door as he walked by.

A loud rustling followed by an annoyed looking Damien came out. "I can drive myself you know." The youngest son of Bruce Wayne growled, swinging his backpack onto his back.

"You can drive as Robin when wearing the uniform, but if I recall Damien Wayne lost his probationary license when drag racing with his friends. I believe your excuse was 'a necessary step in keeping masked life and unmasked life separate.'"

Damien muttered something under his breath, Tim was sure it was insulting but couldn't bring himself to care. Normally they would be at each other's throats by this point in the morning as neither were morning people, but this morning they had more pressing matters to think about; their eldest brother.

* * *

By the time Tim arrived at his university the reporters were already waiting for him. Damien had gotten off easy, his teachers stepping in and demanding they leave private property, and taking him into the building surrounded by security. Gotham University was technically private property, however it held reporting classes, so every junior reporter enrolled had come with cameras and note pads hoping to get a scoop, as had every reporter alumni within a hundred miles.

Cursing his luck, Tim Drake pushed his way through the crowed, staying resolutely silent.

"Mr Drake, now that your brother has returned how is your faming coping with his kidnapping?"

"Mr Drake, can you tell us about your brother's injuries?"

"Mr Drake, what is being done to bring the kidnappers to justice?"

The questions kept coming, the flashing lights from cameras blinding and adding to his headache that normally came with mornings.

Entering the hallowed halls of Gotham university, he made a beeline for the newer side of campus, the science buildings. The babble of reporters following, still yelling questions. It was days like this that Tim wished he had followed in Dick's footsteps and finished university early, at least he would have had more protections from reports being a minor.

Tim pulled out his identification card and swiped it through, giving him access to the more exclusive labs reserved for experienced students. They couldn't follow him in here unless they had successfully proven the head of a science division they were capable of structured and safe scientific experimentation, it was unlikely any of his stalkers doubled in high level science and reporting.

Sighing in relief Tim put his bag down at his desk and went to the coffee machine at the back of the room.

"I thought I'd find you here" The voice he had ben dreading to hear echoed around the lab.

"Fantastic detective work, almost as good as Batman" Tim replied sarcastically, trying to mentally steel himself for the coming conversation.

He turned to see a frowning Barbara Gordon. "I thought we were on the same team, you don't seem happy to see me."

"I was wrong to side with you first time around. Now Dick is back, I can't afford to fuck up this time, he's not the same person."

Stalking forward Barbara grabbed Tim's shoulders, pulling them face to face. "I want to know what's going on, I may not be a Wayne kid but I'm part of the team. I have a right to know, there are no sides."

"You don't get it, we fucked up, big time. You probably most of all. You were his best friend. You were the first for follow him as a protégé of the man in black. You knew him better than almost anyone, and you left. If Bruce says you can't see him, then I'll stand by that call, because I can admit that I fucked up. Why can't you." The coffee machine beeped, finishing the brew. Collecting his drink Tim shouldered past Barbara back to his desk.

"We weren't wrong. Dick getting kidnapped doesn't change that."

Tim didn't even bother turning around, "Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't, but we can't change the fact that no matter who was wrong or right, we no longer have a relationship with Dick, and that began before the kidnapping. We cut the thread not him, that's why we were wrong."

Tim pulled out his lab coat and earphones, and began his work, after all, some normalcy seemed like a nice idea.

* * *

"So there's nothing left to be done. It's over." The deep voice of Bruce Wayne finished. Bruce sat in a lounge chair next to his eldest son's bed, beside him stood Alfred. The wall facing the bed leaned Jason, he looked out the window scowling.

"I don't like it. They deserve to pay for what they did." Jason punched the wall, though this did little to satisfy his anger.

Sighing, Dick rubbed his eyed tiredly. "They already did."

"Well maybe some got away, seriously Dick, they hid from the entire fucking Justice League, perhaps-"

"If – "Dick cut him off, " - there was even a slighted possibility of them being able to come back I wouldn't be here. I'd be dead or hiding. I wasn't going to risk them getting at any of you."

Jason continued to scowl. He had been stuck for five years wondering, and waiting for any sign of his brother, wanting to destroy the people that took him, and now Dick was back he still couldn't do anything in retaliation. "Why didn't you come back? We would have helped you, I would have helped you."

"When I first got out, I was pretty far gone, I didn't know up from down. They, what they did ruined me. It took me a full year to figure out who you were to me and by that time, they were already watching you, and they had figured out who you all were. I couldn't risk it; I would have destroyed everything we worked towards."

"Did they keep records on us, are they still out there?" Bruce frowned.

"For god's sake Bruce, is that all you care about?" Jason stood from his leaning position and sauntered over to the billionaire. "Di you not just hear what Dick said? That's the fucking reason he didn't come back, because of our precious identities. I would have rather lost my anonymity than lost my brother."

"I wasn't going to come back anyway Jay. The only reason I am back now is because I didn't want to die without saying goodbye. It was meant to end on that mountain."

Bruce and Jason share a look of pain a despair. Richard truly wasn't the man they lost and there was nothing they could do to change it.

* * *

The kids at school stared.

Damien was used to being the centre of attention, he was the resident bad boy, he got in trouble, mouthed off and to his teachers surprise and frustration, got straight A's. After all if his brothers could do it (with the exception of Jason who "doesn't give a fuck what Shakespeare says), so could he.

That's how life had been for the past few years. Once his brother disappeared, Damien had found reality a tough pill to swallow. The world was dangerous, and dark. The spotlight shining on him and Timothy, the remained Wayne brothers. The public were obsessed with them, so following in his father's footsteps, Damien decided to put on a show, becoming a lady's man, throwing parties, and acting like the spoilt brat everyone expected him to be.

This was different. Everyone stared at him, like they were expecting him to break down and cry with joy at his brother's return, or start spout threats of revenge like he did at every insult when he first arrived at Wayne manor.

They were all children, all rich snobs. None of the had any idea how terrible and unforgiving the world could be. For perhaps the first time in his life, Damien realised that the privileged blue blood of the high society that he had associated himself with were perhaps the worst people he could aspire to be. He didn't want to be one of them, he felt not comradery with them.

It was funny how life turned out. As things sat at this moment, the people he felt most comfortable with, were people he had looked down upon. Punching his locker in frustration, Damien cursed the irony of his situation.

A gaggle of girls walked up to him, they were all relatively pretty, their parents had paid for the best skincare, haircare and accessories available, it was almost impossible for them to end up unattractive. The looked at him, the normal predatory gleam in their eyes. Technique with Dick returning and officially being adopted, the was the oldest Wayne heir, but Damien was still the blood son, and for the upper class that still counted, each of Bruce Wayne's sons were well desired among the fairer sex, that were rich and handsome, but Dick and Damien were the ones that had originally had to deal with the blue-blooded heiresses looking for a good match. "Damien we were so happy to hear of you brothers return." Another interrupted "But it must be quite confusing and strange for you." The third pitched in "So if you ever need someone to talk to –" the second continued "Or some comfort" the first hastily added. "We're here for you.

Normally Damien would be happy to take up such an offer, lots of girls enjoyed trying to tame the bad boy of the school, or comfort Wayne's son without a mother. Some had tried to use Dick's disappearance as a way for comfort him, but that always left a bad taste in his mouth. It still did.

"You know what ladies, I'm doing fine, thank you for your kind words about my brother, now he's back I hope to make him proud." Squaring his shoulders, Damien marched past them. It was time he started acting like he was better than these people, because he was; not because of his blood or heritage, but because he had experienced far more and learned for greater things than them. It was time he acted like the hero he should be.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **I would love some feedback, particularly on Tim and Damien's characters, Im trying something slightly different than canon but I hope you like it.**

 **Just for reference**

 **Dick became Robin aged 9, joined young justice aged 13/14, invasion at 18 and is now 23**

 **Jason became robin aged 13, joined young justice aged 13 died 15 invasion at 17 and is now 22 (spent a year dead so technically 21)**

 **Tim became robin aged 12, invasion at 14 and is now 19**

 **Damien became robin aged 10, invasion at 12 and is now 17**


End file.
